Drabbles from the Blood Gulch
by RenKain
Summary: Random bits and pieces, interactions and observations from the Red Team, the Blue Team, and sometimes both. Might have a Freelancer or two at some point. No non-canon pairings, rating is for language.
1. Caboose

I've been trying to corner my One Piece muses long enough to finish Diamonds and Demons, but they are surprisingly crafty little buggers. So here is some RvB drivel instead.

Just a random time/place/setting in the Blood Gulch 'verse, where the Reds and Blues have temporarily joined forces. I seem to have a bit of a weakness for those kinds of scenarios. Also, the second part of this is from Caboose's PoV, which is why it might seem a little random XD

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Rooster Teeth.

Warnings: T for language.

* * *

"Caboose!"

The heat-seeking rocket was streaking toward the ground at a rapid pace, leaving a burning trail in it's wake and heading directly for a particular blue-clad soldier, who was currently turned in the opposite direction.

"Caboose! _Move!_"

He had always known Caboose was an idiot, plain and simple. The guy had all the battle skills of a brain-damaged sheep and the reasoning capacity of a rock. Caboose drove everyone half crazy with stupid questions, stupider stunts and simply his inability to keep his mouth shut. And that wasn't even mentioning the whole getting-his-head-stuck-in-places-it-shouldn't-be problem. Still…

"Dammit, Caboose! _Get the hell out of there!_"

Still, Caboose could be helpful, in his completely screwed up and backward way, and it was obvious he was at least trying to be a good soldier. That was more than could be said for some of the others, on both teams, and everyone knew it.

Which was why he had absolutely no hesitation as he threw himself forward toward the oblivious idiot, directly underneath the incoming rocket.

* * *

It had turned out to be a good day. The mean guy was gone, they were all together again, and no one was shooting at them anymore. Yes, Caboose nodded to himself, it was a good day.

And hey, the others were so happy, someone was even whistling.

"Caboose!"

And cheering for him! He was a hero! Oh, boy! Now Church would _definitely_ be his best friend!

"Caboose! _Move!_"

Move? Why? Were they starting a dance party for him? That was probably it. The whistling was definitely getting louder…

Now Tucker was swearing, loudly, which meant he was having fun. After all, Tucker was an idiot, right?

Caboose was just about to turn and ask if there would be cake (that would be awesome) when something hit him so hard the ground exploded next to him.

Wow. Maybe he shouldn't have had that chili corn dog for lunch. Church had warned him, after all. But that was probably because Church wanted it for himself. Silly Church.

Caboose hit the dirt flat on his back, and the something that had barreled into him landed on top of him in an odd pile. The something pulled itself up a few moments later, and to Caboose's surprise he was staring directly into the visor of a red helmet.

"Sergeant," Caboose started slowly. After all, the Red Sergeant seemed to be a little slow when it came to understanding things. "If you wanted to dance, you could have just asked me. I would have said yes."

The Red Sergeant climbed to his feet as the others ran toward them. Well, all except Tucker, who was busy dancing with his sword and a mysterious man in black armor who wasn't Tex.

"Holy shit, Sarge!" Simmons reached them first. "Wow, that was one hell of a save!"

"What'd you save a Blue for?" Grif demanded. "Isn't your motto 'The only good Blue is a dead Blue'?" He stopped next to Simmons. "Are we changing our team motto now? 'Cause I'd like it to be 'Work might not kill you, but why take the chance?'."

"Shaddup, Grif," Sarge growled out of reflex. He was still looking down at Caboose, unmoving.

Church arrived next, his sniper rifle slung across his back. "_Goddammit Caboose!_" he snarled, which promptly translated in Caboose's head as "Hey buddy, those were some pretty sharp dance moves."

"Hey, Church," Caboose grinned.

Church turned away from him to stare at Sarge, as did Simmons and Grif. Tucker, who had finished disposing of the enemy straggler, trotted up to the group a second later and looked at the Red leader in confusion (they were pretty sure it was confusion, it's a bit hard to tell from behind the visor).

They were waiting for Sarge to scold the Blue idiot, point out his stupidity (which was really too obvious to require being pointed out), or give a long anecdote on how he had once saved his own C.O. in a similar way, and how useless Grif was compared to everything else in the galaxy. The usual bullshit.

What they hadn't expected was for Sarge to pull Caboose to his feet, clap him on the shoulder and say, almost gently, "Watch your six, son."

Yes, it was a good day.


	2. Church

Yep. The universe hates Church. Or, the Blood Gulch 'verse does, anyway.

Disclaimer: Belongs to RT

Warnings: Tucker

* * *

Church stood alone on the top of Blue base, feeling pretty good about life in general for the first time in a long time. Tucker wasn't making stupid jokes, Caboose didn't have any body parts jammed in random appliances, and from what he could see through his sniper scope, the Reds had taken a day off from scheming half-assed diabolical plots and were lounging in the sun next to their Cat Mobile.

Church himself had just finished his second lunch (stupid snack packs were freaking _tiny_) and had been pretending to patrol the base after making sure Tucker was occupied in his 'special rock' place and sending Caboose off on a made-up mission to find the 'magical green stone hidden somewhere in the valley'. So, after days of everyone annoying each other to the point of attempted homicide, there was finally some peace and quiet on this side of the box canyon. And he was loving it.

In retrospect, Church figured he probably should have known something was about to go wrong.

An explosion rocked the Blue base, forcing Church to drop into a crouch on the roof and raise his sniper rifle in preparation for an attack. Instead, he heard Tucker shrieking in what was probably the most Annoyed Tucker Voice he had heard from the other soldier in a long time.

"_What the fuck, dumbass? Where the fuck did you get a grenade?_"

Great. So much for the 'magical stone' idea. The moron had found a goddamned explosive, instead. Why did the universe hate him so much?

Church tried to clap a hand over his face in frustration but was blocked by the ever-present visor of his helmet. He instead sighed loudly, not really wanting to ask but, being acting Captain, knowing he would have to anyway. "What the hell was that?"

Right on cue, Caboose piped up with an answer so predictable Church could have mouthed it along with him.

"Tucker did it."


	3. Sarge

I have no excuse...

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB

Warnings: Meh.

* * *

"I really think you'll need help, Sarge. I can get it for you."

"With your namby-pamby hands? I wouldn't bet on it. Get off me!"

"No, really. It's not a problem- Oh! I have an idea~!"

"Dammit Donut! Just let go so I can- Now where're you goin'?"

"To get the baby oil."

"The _what?_"

"Don't move, Sarge! I'll be right back!"

"Get your keister back here, Private Donut! On the double!"

"Alright, I'm back! Now, just let me-"

"I said no!"

"What did you call me back for, then?"

"I wanna shoot myself in the foot so you can go get the aloe vera, instead."

"…Really?"

"No!"

"Come on, Sarge. You're being ridiculous. Just let me-"

"That's it! I'm outta here!"

* * *

Grif sat on the edge of Red base, swinging his armored legs over the side of the building. Simmons stood next to him with an engine instruction pamphlet in one hand and a screwdriver in the other. He was trying to figure out what was wrong with the Warthog without actually getting near it, as Sarge was currently working on the vehicle, himself. Simmons just wanted to be prepared, so when Sarge asked for his help, which he eventually would, he would be ready for it.

The quiet of the afternoon was soon interrupted however, as Sarge came bolting from the back of the base, howling like a banshee and heading for the caves. He was missing his chest piece, which was odd enough, but also seemed to have several of the Warthog's various parts stuck inside his armor, making him look like a giant red porcupine. Donut was chasing after him with a bottle in each hand.

"Wait, Sarge! I just need a little more baby oil to loosen it up!"

"Keep your hands off my rod, Donut! I can get it off, myself!"

"No, really! I've done this before!"

The pair were soon out of sight, leaving Grif and Simmons staring after them in confusion.

It was a full minute before either of them spoke.

"What. The fuck. Did I just see?" Simmons asked, removing his helmet to wipe at the lens of his red cyborg eye.

Next to him, Grif shook his head. "Dude, I don't think you even want to know."


	4. Washington

So technically this is not Blood Gulch. Whatever...

Wash is my favorite Freelancer, and since I promised at least one Freelancer, you can have two.

Disclaimer: RvB belongs to Rooster Teeth

Warnings: Language

* * *

The were idiots, all of them. Red or Blue, lazy or over-achiever, human, robot or something in between, none of the variables changed the fact that he was now teamed up with a bunch of morons.

They were…different. Not the kind of different he was used to, with special training and field equipment and completing nearly impossible missions. They were the kind of different that made him blink and back away slowly, wondering how whatever calamity he had just witnessed was even physically possible.

In the end, he always found himself trusting them despite their social disabilities. If the last fight with the META hadn't been an eye opener to what these 'target practice' soldiers were truly capable of, he didn't know what would be.

"Church!"

And yet, there were still those times…

"Hey, Church!"

Former Freelancer Agent Washington turned around with a sigh. "My name is Wash, Caboose. I've already told you that. About a hundred times now," he added under his breath.

Caboose stopped on top of a flat rock a few feet away, and Washington could practically feel the confused expression being pointed his direction. "Why do you want me to wash you?" Caboose asked. "Oh, do you have trouble getting out of your armor? I do sometimes, too. It's okay."

"What?" Washington's helmet tilted back, as if trying to put more distance between itself and Caboose. "No, I do _not_ want you to wash me. Why would you even suggest that?"

"Why did you ask me, then?" the blue armored soldier sounded annoyed.

"I didn't!" Washington was quickly losing his patience. "Just...what are you doing out here, Caboose? I thought you were inside helping Tucker scout the base?"

"Oh, yeah," Caboose nodded. "I was, but I don't know which one to help now, so…"

"What does that mean?"

"There are two of them," Caboose explained before continuing in a loud stage whisper, "I think Tucker might have had another baby."

"I doubt that's it," Washington said slowly. "Two of them? I'm getting a bad feeling about this…"

"Do you need to use the bathroom?"

"No!"

"I'm just trying to help."

"Don't," Washington told him seriously. "Don't ever 'help' me again. Ever." He turned toward Blue base. "Let's go."

"Yeah, I don't think that will be necessary."

"Why not?"

"Because one of the Tuckers has learned how to fly."

"What?"

Washington looked up to see a greenish-blue-aqua-teal soldier sailing through the air toward them, no doubt via the gravity lift.

"_Dammit, why do people keep throwing me?_"

The former agent looked on, one eyebrow cocked behind his visor, as Tucker hit the dirt with a loud thud and rolled to a stop beside Caboose's feet.

"Ow."

"What happened?" Washington asked.

"Uhg," Tucker pushed himself off the ground with one hand. "Well, either Tex somehow escaped that memory thing and changed the color of her armor, or Satan's reincarnation is a pissed off chick."

Washington's other eyebrow joined the first one. "Again, what happened?"

"I'll tell you what happened!" Tucker snapped. "There's a crazy bitch in our base! And she's looking for _you_, asshole! What'd you do?"

"I- nothing! Nothing you don't already know about, anyway. Who would be in our…"

Washington trailed off as he caught sight of the source of all the commotion, not sure if he should greet his old teammate (a supposedly _dead_ teammate) or run very fast in the opposite direction. It was all becoming a little more clear now; she always did know how to make an entrance.

"Hello, Agent Washington," she stopped a few yards away, one hand resting on the holster of her pistol. "Miss me?"

"...Carolina?"

* * *

**A/N**: This might actually be considered a bit AU, more of a 'what if' scenario. I'm going with the idea that Carolina kind of ambushed Blue base as soon as the boys got back to Valhalla (seems to be her style, anyway). Tucker, being Tucker, would most likely hit on her immediately and...well...


End file.
